


Dreams & Reality

by sungyeol



Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-23
Updated: 2012-05-23
Packaged: 2017-11-05 21:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sungyeol/pseuds/sungyeol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You almost resent yourself for wanting him, but it's inevitable. A/L SLASH</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams & Reality

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, this is my first LOTR fanfiction! I pretty much live for comments, so I would much appreciate your feedback, and I apologize in advance for any errors in the writing; I haven't had the chance to look over it yet, but I will soon to fix anything up! Thanks for reading! :3
> 
> Oh, and this is set sometime during the Fellowship of the Ring, after the Council and before Boromir's death.

You’ve never noticed how good looking of a man he is before now. It’s common for you to overlook even the simplest of things, but as you sit, running your thumb carefully along one of your arrows while everyone is asleep, you take a glance at your companion; his head is resting against his hand and a solemn expression sits upon his face while he sleeps, and you begin to study him.

You have an urge to lean forward and brush away the loose strands of curly hair that fall over his face, but you stay back, not wanting to stir him while at peace; you can make out his prominent jawline, anyway, and his perfectly formed features – his noise is perfectly shaped, precisely the right size and length, and his lips are full, almost enticing.  
You shake your head at the thought immediately. You cannot afford to think like that, especially not about him. 

“Legolas?”

You start, turning behind to see Frodo Baggins standing, rubbing his eyes as if he had just awoken. You frown, wondering why he is up – it’s not his turn to be on watch, and even though it’s not yours either, you have no will to rest – you never do.

“What are you doing awake, Frodo?” You ask, concern hinted in your tone. The hobbit does not reply instantly, for he is studying you closely; he glances at Aragorn, who is still asleep before you, and then back to you.

“I just thought I heard something,” he says, “but it was just you, I think. Sorry.”

He ducks back out into the shadows, and while he moves away you call sleep well, but no response is heard; your words echo into the darkness, and you sit unmoving for a while before taking one last glance at Aragorn. His expression has changed into one with a frown, as if his dreams are plunged with worries and fears. 

You almost want to lie next to him and feel him breathing onto you, feel his presence right beside you constantly for the rest of the night, but you move towards the other side of the log you are sitting on and make yourself comfortable there instead. 

You almost resent yourself for wanting him, but it’s inevitable. 

-

It’s dark – too dark; you can barely see a thing, but you don’t need to. Hands are being run through your hair and the lips against your skin are tender, sweet. You do not remember how this started, but it does not matter; all you want is for the moment to never end.

Suddenly Aragorn stops kissing your neck and looks up – your elven eyes can just about make out his face, and he looks more beautiful than ever. 

“It is late,” he says, his voice a low whisper. “I do not want to weary you.”

You almost laugh, because you know he knows that you do not tire as easily. “If anything, it should be you who is tiring,” and you find his lips, pressing them against your own once again. 

You feel his arm wrap around your waist as he pulls you in even closer, and his other hand is fiddling with the belt of your tunic, and you do not object to his actions. You know it’s wrong – you recognize it probably more than he does, but for once you do not care.  
It’s him you want, and only him. 

He breaks away for a moment, but he is still abnormally close to you; you can feel his breath against your aching lips but it’s a pleasant sensation, one that you want to savour every moment of. You wonder why he has stopped; you begin to worry that he is growing bored of your presence, which is something that you would utterly resent, something that always lingers in the back of your mind whenever you’re with him.

“Legolas,” he whispered, and you shut your eyes, trying to control yourself –you’ve never wanted anybody more than this, and the way he whispers your name while holding you against his body only gives you the urge to throw him to the ground and have your way with him.

“Why have you stopped?” You ask, desperately attempting to control yourself.

He pauses for a moment, before beginning again, his voice even lower than it was.

“I need you, Legolas.”

A smile is brought upon your face as your mind runs over those delicate words, again and again. Your response is automatic – you do not need to think about it.

“And I you.”

Your eyes open abruptly, and as you lay there, half-awake and barely breathing, you realize the events that had unravelled were just a dream – fabrications created in your mind, affairs that would never come to life. You can feel your heart pounding against your chest, your mind spinning in circles, his words that he had murmured so loud and clear in your head: I need you, Legolas.

Sighing, you shut your eyes once more, but with no intent of falling back asleep. It is hard to do so anyway; your thoughts constantly circle back to him. 

-

In the morning the Company does not set off straight away; you are given time to eat and prepare yourself. You choose to eat alone – your dream last night is still daunting you, and you cannot gather the courage to look at anyone, let alone speak with anyone just yet.

As you eat, enjoying the company of the silence that surrounds you, you are unexpectedly approached by the person you perhaps want to see the least – and the most. Aragorn has a frown upon his face as he sees you, and does not hesitate to sit by your side. You can feel yourself growing uncomfortable as you unwillingly recall the dream from last night, and in a subtle attempt to hide your embarrassment you let your long hair cover your face as he begins to speak.

“You did not sleep much last night,” Aragorn says, a tone of genuine concern heard in his voice. 

“I was not tired,” you reply simply. It is a blunt answer, but it will suffice, you think.

There is a slight pause before Aragorn speaks again, this time with a more pressing manner. “It is unusual for you not to be accompanying us for breakfast. Are you well?”

“I am well enough,” you respond, looking up and meeting his eyes. You can feel your heart beat rising dramatically, and you notice that there is no definite colour to his eyes; they could be grey, or blue, or green, and for once you are baffled. You look away quickly. “I felt obliged to take some time alone, that is all.” Brightening up slightly, you say, “I hope I have not caused worry. We shall set off in a few moments. I sense the weather to be in our favour today.”

You notice Aragorn relaxing slightly, almost as if he is relieved that you are okay. You are grateful that he has not noticed anything that might have concerned the dream.  
You glance at him once, and he is still looking at you with a strange expression upon his face. 

“Do you wish for me to stay, or shall I leave?” He asks politely, but you notice that he is already shuffling slightly, as if he has already predicted that you shall request for him to leave. This only makes you want to grab him by the arm and pull him towards you in a tight embrace, but you refrain yourself from making any sort of movement.

“I am indifferent,” you reply untruthfully – you want him to stay, just with you, even if it’s for a few minutes. “Do as you will.”

“Then I shall stay,” he says, settling against the log that you are both seated on. You are somewhat relieved, but there is a tension between the two of you – you know that you are the one who is primarily causing it, but it is hard to look at him when you have thoughts of his fine lips against your own, the constant desperation to have him for yourself always lingering the back of your mind.

Aragorn has always been a persistent character, however, and he shuffles up closer to you – noticing this, you begin to fidget, becoming more and more obvious that you are clearly nervous when his presence is near – and says, “You look troubled, my dear friend. Not your usual self. What is the matter?”

You are, you think. You are so close to saying those words out loud, but you do not want to push him away, give him the wrong impression.  
It’s not as if you have a chance of having him the way that you want him, anyway.

You mumble an incoherent sentence to yourself in an attempt to bring across the message that you do not want to speak of it, and he understands almost instantly. You have brought across the point more than enough and he does not ask any more of it, and you sit in silence for a while before you finally gain the courage to speak. 

“What does it feel like to be in love?” 

Your question surprises him. He looks up to you, studying you as if you are a whole new person; you are no longer Legolas on the inside, but you bear the same face, the same long hair and the same bow and arrow. He stays silent for a moment, before he begins.

“It is like a shot from an arrow,” he says. “When you are hit with it – which could take a matter of seconds, up till the battle is over – it strikes you hard, and at first you do not feel the pain as you could do; but you gradually begin to fail, feeling weaker until you hit the ground, unable to go on any longer. And once the arrow is removed from your body, you only feel more pain. You would rather have left the arrow struck into you, but it is for your own good; you need to let the wound heal.

“But then, it is not always so negative. There is not one moment of the day that passes where the one you love does not occupy your mind; you feel that everything you do is for them, that you rely on them for everything you want in life. They are your hero, your inspiration; they are the one you respect, the one that you admire.” He pauses for a moment, lowering his voice. “The one whose lips you’d want to feel against your own. The one you would bed in a heartbeat.”

He stops there, and you do not reply; you is lost deep in thought, and when Aragorn asks you a question, you do not hear the first time.

“Legolas.”

“Yes?”

“Do you believe you are in love?”

You stare at him, and he looks genuinely intrigued. It is a question that you should have expected, but you are not sure how to answer because you are still thinking about the very same thing. After a moment or two of silence, you finally reply.

“Yes.”

A smile appears on Aragorn’s face, a small and subtle one, but a smile all the same. “And I assume you are not obliged to tell me of this person that you are allegedly in love with?”

“No,” you reply, “I am not.”

His smile turns into a laugh, a laugh that rings into your ears and echoes out, only causing your stomach to churn even more than it was. You do not understand why he is laughing, but you do not care; you would gladly sit and hear the sound of his chuckles for the rest of your life.

“May I take a guess as to whom it could possibly be?” He says, before he leans over and brings his lips against yours. 

You do not know what to do at first, but as he brings himself closer to you, you start to feel more comfortable and begin to let yourself relax in the embrace. You bring your arms round his waist, and for a few seconds he moves away from your kiss to chuckle to himself once more. His breath on your lips – just as you had dreamed of – is tickly against them, and you could not think of a more pleasant sensation.

He breaks away once more, but you are still holding him in your arms. 

“We should be going soon,” he says, a grin tugging at his lips. “We do not want to let the others become impatient. But then, I do not want to keep _you_ impatient, my dear.”

You are still debating whether it is a dream or a reality, but when you do not wake up as the embrace continues, you’ve never felt happier.


End file.
